The Test
by Bekki
Summary: For the first time in her career, Sam was grateful that pregnancy tests weren’t included in the post-offworld checkup. Tag to Beneath the Surface S/J


**The Test**

_Summary: _For the first time in her career, Sam was grateful that pregnancy tests weren't included in the post-offworld checkup. Tag to Beneath the Surface S/J

_`for Senedra`_

* * *

Sam bit her lip as she sat on the end of her bed. Time seemed to be passing so slowly that it might as well have been going backwards. She had left the little stick in the ensuite, not even daring to bring it back out into the bedroom with her. If she had, she would have looked at it every three seconds, and time would surely have passed even slower.

So instead she just sat on her bed and waited.

For the first time in her career, she was grateful that pregnancy tests weren't included in the post-offworld checkup. She had never been in a position to think anything of it, really. But now, everything had changed.

Her mind kept flashing back to different times. Each thought stung like burn that had been left untreated for fun. She wished the thoughts would leave her alone. Jonah didn't exist, there was no sense in pining after him. But he_ had_ existed, even if only for a short time, and she couldn't help but wish it had been longer. She couldn't help but wish it had been real.

If only they had never gone to that damned planet. She wouldn't be aching over a man whom she used to know she could never have. It would have all been so easy. She could have locked up any…unnecessary feelings in a time capsule and pretend that she didn't know how he felt either. Words were easy to forget. Touches were substantially harder. Intimate relationships – something close to Goa'uld torture, Unplanned pregnancies? She was yet to find out. Maybe.

_Karlan's words had confused her. "And that's where the two of you met?" Jonah seemed so sure that they met in the mines. But Thera? She couldn't remember. And she was sure, so sure that she would remember the first time she'd seen Jonah's face. There was no way she could forget something like that. But for the life of her, she had no idea when or how they met. She felt as if she had known him forever. _

_He was watching her, she could tell. She could feel his eyes on her from the other end of the compound. She looked up and gave him a small smile. She tried not to blush at the look in his eyes. So warm, so strong. _

Sam gritted her teeth grit. Memories were not helpful.

_His rough hand held her face and tickled her cheek as it moved its way down to her neck. She smiled at him, unable to tear her eyes from his. She really didn't care that she couldn't remember meeting him. She didn't even care that something was wrong, like Karlan had said. Her dreams of blue puddles were nothing compared to her other dreams. Dreams of being stuck behind an invisible wall, silently begging for Jonah. Dreams of beating him against a bench and kissing him senseless. _

_Jonah kissed her throat and she giggled. It seemed his thoughts were not too far away from her own._

It was that day, that night to be more specific, that they crossed the point of no return. At the time, she wouldn't have traded that night for anything in the world. Now? Of all the things in her life, it might be the one thing she wished had never happened. How was she supposed to look at her C.O without thinking of Jonah's arms around her waist, his lips on her chest? How was she supposed to forget?

Maybe Brenna could make her a memory stamp to get rid of it. Maybe she could get rid of Thera's memories in the same way she had gotten rid of Sam's. They could go back to before, blissfully denying and ignoring everything that was between them.

She remembered the pregnancy test waiting for her and closed her eyes. No. She couldn't forget what she had done. Not if there was a baby.

The word in itself brought unwanted tears to her eyes. What on earth was she supposed to do if the stick turned blue? She'd have to quit SG1, maybe the air force, who knew what kind of trouble she would put the Colonel in. Maybe she'd resign and not tell anyone. Jack would never have to give up his career. He was needed on SG1.

Would she ever tell him? The thought snuck into her head like a gross disease. Could she take his career away like that? Take his life away? She knew that he would never let her deal with it on her own. Even if he didn't…have feelings for her…he would never let her do it on her own. No matter how hard it was for him. Was that fair?

Or would she tell him? Would she tell him and let him throw everything away for her? They could start a family. A proper family, far away from the blood and death that was waiting for them behind the shimmering blue of the event horizon. They could buy a home together, make a life together, with no fear that they would lose the other the next day, with no restrictions or regulations.

Sam reveled in the impossible fantasy.

In her mind's eye she could see a small house in the suburbs. No picket fence of course, Jack would have vomited over the obvious cliché. They could work normal jobs, do normal things. They would have beautiful children who would never know the horrors of war. Everything would be perfect.

"_I just think I'm supposed to be doing something more important."_

Karlin's, _Daniel's_ words hit her like a smelly bag of potatoes. There was something more important than her happily ever after. There always would be.

And all at once she felt like jumping off a cliff and vomiting and crying for joy all at the same time. The timer had gone off. The pregnancy test was ready.

She could hardly believe she was shaking. She took a deep breath and tried to walk steadily over to the ensuite. Yes or no? Freedom or pain?

She closed her eyes as she picked up the small stick. It was childish, she knew, but she needed it to come in an instant. No peeking. Once the test was firmly in her hand, she took another deep breath and opened her eyes.

Pink.

She was surprised to find she was instantly disappointed. No family. No non-clichéd picket fence. She rubbed her stomach and suddenly felt quite hot. She needed to sit down again.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the test result that should have made her happy. Maybe now she could get Brenna to re-erase her memory so that none of this would ever affect her again. She could go back to being happily in denial.

But she couldn't. She wanted to keeps staring, she wanted to feel that failure. So close to an instant out. An instant fairy tale. But now, all she had was an impossible mission. No chance for a family or a life until it was complete. And she knew it never would be. It was an impossible mission, after all.

And suddenly she felt so stupid for ever thinking she could make it all go away like that. Babies weren't magical "fix-it" spells. Nothing would fix the galaxy and stop the Goa'uld from coming, especially not her leaving the Stargate program. Nothing would fix her, stop the pain and the nightmares full of glowing eyes and tinkling metal. And nothing would fix the ache that lay somewhere just above her stomach. The ache from needing something, someone, that she could never have.

It was Jonah and Thera all over again. There was nothing but the mission. Friendship, love, children, no matter how real they were or could have been, were nothing.

She had passed the point of no return again. And she had no idea what to do about it.


End file.
